


Disappearance.

by Deezaster82



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 07:41:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5860126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deezaster82/pseuds/Deezaster82
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the mtmte/ex-RID continuity before issue 50 of both series.<br/>One glorious day on Cybertron, Starscream, the choosen one, is abducted by mysterious individuals.<br/>Windblade, Wheeljack, Rattrap and Co have to decide what to do about it. Meanwhile, On the Lost Light, Megatron collects informations that might help locate the seeker...but isn't too willing to share them. The question is, does anyone want Starscream to be saved at all?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: This story will contain graphic violence, gore, consensual and non consensual sex, BDSM, mature language and probably a lot of typos.

Chapter one.

 

“The glass of Engex is always full, but the dispenser gets empty.” The melodic voice of the ghost said.

“Meaning?” Starscream asked with a tired sigh.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Bumblebee answered with a smile and a gesture of his cane toward the energon dispenser in the room. The level was getting low alright. “And I'm not even talking about your drinking far too much lately.”

“I don't drink that much,” The seeker defended himself, albeit with not much force.

“Yeah and everybody on this planet adore you and worship you.” The death Autobot laughed. The drunk seeker threw his empty glass at the mocking illusion. 

Starscream bared his teeth as Bumblebee 'dodged' the object and it crashed somewhere behind him. The seeker looked up from where the glass had shattered and the electronic eye of a poorly hidden survellance camera stared back at him. 

“One day, they'll all see...How hard I work for them, how much I do for them...” he rasped under his breath.

But on the table in front of which he was seated, the datapad was still blank.

The Engex dispenser was empty, Cybertron was a mess and no one, in the whole universe, cared about him.

He stood up and walked toward the large window from which he usually watched the city, a slight hesitation in his steps.

He laid his hand on the glass surface and sensed a slight tremor in the material, he hastly pulled away.

Maybe he'd had one glass too many to drink...Wasn't a big deal was it?

That is when the ceiling fell down on him.

Shadows moved through the dust the damage created, those were no illusion. Horrible, gigantic hands stetched toward him, grabbing, clawing, too much of them for Starscream to escape from or fend off. 

“Who are you?! What do you want?” He screamed but only sinister laughters from different vocalizers answered him. It was enough an intruduction though and he tried his very best not to show just how much he was terrifyed as he recognized those voices. 

But he froze still, making it so much easier for the hands to take a hold of him, seize him and take him away from his beloved realm.

oOo

 

It was a most beautiful morning in Iacon; the sun was shining and the air was sweet on the olfactory sensors. Had it been Earth, it would have had a smell of spring to it, or so Wheeljack thought.

Some days, he almost missed the blue planet, and then he remembered that they were still at war back then, with no certaincy as to whether they'd be able to go back home or if they'd live long enough to find a way back one day . 

Now the war was over and the autobot scientist knew that he should be glad about it. He was alive and well, he wasn't alone, had friends he could rely upon, a place to call home, and only few things he could really complain about.

Even if peace times weren't always perfect, he reminded himself. 

Wheeljack, Windblade, Ironhide and a few other mechs were standing around the smoking pile of dust that once was their king-high chancelor-leader's quarters.

Rattrap emerged from the rubble, shaking the dust off his furry chassis energetically. “Found no trace of his lordship!” he anounced, a peculiar mix of amusement and concern in his ever-so-sarcastic tone.

“What do we do?” Wheeljack asked no one in particular. He looked around at the crowd gathered there and they stared back in silence, none of them looking like they were thinking hard about an answer to give to his question. 

None of them liked Starscream. Wheeljack himself wasn't certain that the pity he sometimes felt for the ex-decepticon second-in-command could pass for anything that remotely ressembled affection.  
If he should never be found, if he should never return, great chances were that the seeker wouldn't be missed at all. 

His disapperance was only a concern because it left Cybertron without a leader, a concern that wasn't really one. As soon as...

Suddenly breaking the silence, Windblade declared she would talk to Metroplex about this...And then contact Optimus Prime, as should be.

Wheeljack just nodded at Caminus' delagate proposal. 

As soon as the Prime would arrive, Cybertron's leadership would no longer be a concern. 

The Autobot engineer knew that they all thought the same thing: such an occurrence was all they'd been waiting for.  
Cybertron's people wouldn't take it well if Starscream- their choosen one, their elected leader- was to be dethroned by the Prime, the one who was responsible for the civil war that had pushed them away from the planet, without anyone having a say about it. 

But they'd certainly be more inclined to accept the Prime as leader if there was no other choice: With Starscream gone and no one willing to fill his shoes, the people whould have no choice but to accept Optimus's leadership by interim until new elections could be arranged. And by then, the wise and generous Optimus would undoubtedly have won Cybertron's people over. 

Yes, Wheeljack sighed internally, this was probably for the best.

But still...What would it mean for Starscream? 

oOo

 

Finally, Windblade decided to contact Optimus Prime before taking this to Metroplex and Wheeljack was respectfully asked to prepare the space bridge for his arrival. 

He had no doubt that Windblade had only Cybertron's best intentions at spark and that she didn't rejoice at Starscream's disappearance. She might dislike the seeker but she wouldn't go as far as to relish his fate. The Autobot scientist wasn't as naive as to think that, wherever he was and whatever had happened or was happening to him, Starscream was having it 'nice'. 

He was concerned, he truly was. He didn't want anyone to suffer, even if they deserved it.

Even if they- really- deserved it.

The space bridge's lights shone through the room as it engaged and Wheeljack stood up to welcome his former commander. Optimus Prime appeared through and walked toward him, a half-smile in his optics.

“Hello Wheeljack, I got a message from Windblade saying I should come urgently but she gave no further precisions. What is happening? Are you under attack?”

“Perhaps,” Wheeljack answered. “We are not too sure...but there's been damages to Metroplex.”

“Damage? Is it important? Has there been any casulaties?”

“One. Starscream has disappeared. His quarters were the part of Metroplex that has been targeted and he hasn't been found...We don't know more so far...” Wheeljack looked at the Prime to catch his expression. Optimus looked surprised at first, then he frowned. “Do we have any mean of knowing what happened in there before the...incident?

“Yes, there were spy cameras in Starscream's office. They have been destroyed but Windblade is checking with Metroplex if the recordings can still be viewed.”

“Good” was all Optimus said. He walked out of the space bridge chamber and Wheeljack followed him in silence, wondering what the ex-leader of the Autobots was thinking.

As expected, Metroplex granted them access to the images the spy camera had been able to record before being destroyed along with the rest of the building. 

Most of Cybertron's important figures were asked to attend, just in cade. They had no idea what the recording would show, but Optimus didn't want to risk being accused of having modified the content to his advantage. 

Optimus Prime, Windblade, Wheeljack, Ironhide, Blurr, Chromia, Barricade, Rattrap and Scoop all sat in a row in front of the screen and Windblade respectfully asked Metroplex to start the broadcasting.

The camera had been turned toward Starscream's desk and showed the seeker seated there, drinking and arguing with himself- thankfully, the camera didn't provide sound.- then seemingly losing the argument with his glass of Engex...

Wheeljack looked aside at Windblade and saw a shadow of pity crosses her pretty features, he couldn't blame her. 

Starscream, looked right at the camera, stood up, walked shakily toward a window, then everything trembled and collapsed around him. The image became foggy and unfocused but they could still distinguish things. Starscream tried to stand up from where he'd fallen...dust moving all around him...no, not dust, shadows, huge ones.  
Four or five of them, they reached for him, trying to catch him. At first, he tried to defend himself, then he tried to escape...but then he froze suddenly, as if petrified.

They all watched as the seeker was simply picked up like a doll by a monstruous figure and several smaller ones. A split second later, the building collapsed, ripping the camera from its wires.

Althought shocked by the violence and emotional potency contained in such a short recording, Wheeljack felt somehow relieved that Starscream was proven not guilty for once... 

“Can anyone recognize those people?” Optimus asked the small assembly.

Barricade looked at Scoop who shrugged then looked at Rattrap who looked back at Prime: “One of 'em looks very tall...” he said. “If there was such a big guy around here, I'd know 'em.”

“Scoop just nodded in agreement but Barricade didn't react right away.”

“What's on your mind, 'Cade?” Rattrap asked.

“I'm not sure...” the ex-Decepticon said slowly, “the footage isn't clear enough, too much dust...But one of them looks somewhat familiar... can't remember the name though...”

“Autobot, neutral, Decepticon?” The Prime enquired.

“Most definitely Decepticon.” 

“Prime...Optimus? What should we do?” Windblade asked.

“Investigate.” Wheeljack cut in. “No one used the space bridge, they must still be here on Cybertron.”

“Except if they have a ship,” Windblade supplied. “The question is what should we do about Cybertron while Starscream is gone?”

“Starscream's Cybertron's leader,” Barricade said, looking up at Windblade, “to search and rescue him is what we should do about Cybertron!” 

“Of course,” Rattrap said. “We'll rescue him.”

But he exchanged heavy glances with Windblade and Optimus. Oh yes, of course they planned to go and save Starscream if he needed saving, but the occasion demanded they have a long talk about it first among themselves, among... Autobots.

 

To Be Continued


	2. Be careful what you wish for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance for the short chapters and the typos ( don't hesitate to tell me if my grammar/spelling mistakes make your eyes sore , I'll try to find a beta-reader )  
> Warning for this chapter: Mention of violence, a bit of sap.

Meanwhile, on the Lost Light.

It had been quite uneventful onboard lately. The last cataclysmic drama had been avoided- or at least dealt with without everyone dying or the ship exploding.

It had been two weeks earlier.

And so, life on board had settled back to its usual disorganized routine for those who had survived, much to Minimus Ambus' dismay. Others would describe it as “the habitual quiet in between slag-storms”.  
But as long as it lasted, there wasn't much to do other than keeping the ship on course and the crew entertained.

If some of the crew, namely Rodimus and Whirl, started to feel utterly bored by the lack of activity and hoped for a sparkeater to appear or something so they could at least fire at moving targets, most of the others welcomed the respite.

They could finally use their free time for what they liked best: drink too much, watch movies, laze around and do nothing productive whatsoever.

These days, 'working hard' meant thinking hard to find the theme of the next party.

And those who didn't particularly enjoy parties were just content to get some rest.

In the relative darkness and privacy of his quarters, Megatron was getting comfortale on his recharge slab. The room was quiet except from the small noises Ravage was making from his spot on the floor.  
The feline-like robot was in deep recharge already and his motors purred softly in the silence of the room. It was oddly relaxing. The sound of him slowly eased the ex-warlord into sleepiness.

The ex-Decepticon leader had not fully recovered from the whole Getaway accident and the dull liquid he was forced to drink as sustenance didn't help his recovery. He felt weak but far less frustrated than he should have felt or would have felt in the past.  
The weakening energon gave him an excuse for the things he couldn't explain to himself and took some of his responsibilities away.

It gave him the comforting impression that he had little to no control over the recent disturbances in his personality and that he was therefore not responsible for his sudden laziness.

All in all, it felt like a much-welcomed vacation and it really wasn't that bad.

Anything was better than being executed.

He was about to fully plunge into the world of recharge when a sudden and uncomfortable feeling made him jolt slightly on his slab, pulling him out of the comfortable state he's eased into.

He sat up slowly, wondering what had stuck him and searched his chasis for the origin of the sudden soreness with the tip of his fingers. When he couldn't find any wound, he sighed lightly and powered off his optics. This was probably nothing.

An acute pain, akin to something very sharp slicing through thin plating, shook him and almost made him fall from his berth. He tensed and clenched his teeth to avoid groaning out loud. What in the name of...  
The pain lingered and intensified but he couldn't find its source. Megatron stared at his room's comm, pondering whether or not he should call First Aid.

He almost did, too annoyed by the most unpleasant sensations. His finger brushed the call button and he was about to push it but stopped when he realized what exactly hurt.

The wings he didn't have.

He let his hand fall back to his side and tried to get back into a comfortable position. He had no reason to call a medic, the pain wasn't his.

It was a once terrible decision that was coming back from the distant past to bite his aft plates: The mech he bonded with millions of years ago was getting a severe beating and he was sharing the effects of it.

It was hard not to squirm and hiss as the torment went on and obviously escalated in intensity, but he had to keep quiet not to wake up Ravage. Focusing on his end the bond, he managed to dampen it enough so the phantom pain became bearable.

Wherever he was, Starscream was receiving quite the punishment. Megatron wondered what was happening and why but felt little pity for the seeker.

After all, Starscream had such a remarkable talent for getting himself into all kind of bad situatons. Whatever was happening to him, he'd certainly pulled it onto himself.

Now, more than ever, Megatron regretted the day he chose to bond with that idiotic seeker.

The ex-Decepticon leader couldn't fully close the bond and the sensations filtering through, although lessened by the distance, made it impossible for him to relax and fall back into recharge.

He could feel everything that was happening to his insufferable bondmate.

He felt sliced through, burned, punched, electrocuted and punctured, the agony lasted for hours and when it was over, it started all over again. There was no doubt; This was no brawl or beating, this was torture.

Sometimes the pain lessened a little, only to come back with a vengeance. Megatron knew that, if he wanted to, he could fully open the bond and experience the emotions of his ex-second-in-command in addition to to physical sensations he was subjected to. He hadn't done so for millions of years and had sworn to never do it again.

Their relationship was a thing of the distant past. The only feelings Megatron had left for Starscream were hard ones.

If at the end of this lengty torture session the seeker should die, then so be it. That'd only be for the best.

And at least he'd be able to go back to sleep.

When most intense bouts of pain seemed to lessen somewhat, the old warlord groaned a little and shifted on the berth, hoping to find a comfortable position to sleep, careful not to make too much noise. Obviously, the 'entertainment' was over for today.

He sighed deeply, savoring the return of silence and peace.

But the next moment, he rolled over violently, falling from the berth as he screamed at the top of his vocalizer.

The world he felt suddenly sucked in was one of pure agony, he bit his knuckles so hard they bled.

Even from the distance and carefully dimmed, the sensations the bond was conveying were worse than anything he'd ever felt in his life, and he'd gone through rather awful torments such as being torn in half, cut to pieced or having his plating partly devoured by monsters...Yet none of it could compare to this pain: It felt like thousands of blades (or only a couple of them?) chopping through his-Starscream's- frame from the tips of his pedes up to the tips of his wings.

And then...

Then his spark just froze in its casing....

_M__

_Megatron_

_I pledge my allegiance_

_undying_

_I love you_

_undying_

_I Idolized you...once._

_I hate you!_

_Why did you come back? I had almost won._

_I hate him_

_He doesn't deserve death, he deserves pity!_

_I hate him_

_Megatron..._

_I pledge_

_Undying..._

_Starscream..._

Then the pain vanished completely.

He lost consciousness to the image of Starscream's energon-soaked visage and woke up to Ravage urgently nudging his shoulder. He lifted a trembling hand to the cat's head and pet him reassuringly. His vents were spinning madly but he was fine, just a little shaken by what had just happened.

The death of a bondmate, even when all that was left to feel was hatred, wasn't an easy thing to go through.

 

To Be Continued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Megatron deals with his lack of caring and so does Cybertron's gang. Meanwhile, somewhere else, a bad situation take a turn for the worse.


End file.
